


Friends in High Places

by FruHallbera



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alpha Kylo Ren, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Blood and Violence, Getting Back Together, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Minor Character Death, Omega Armitage Hux, Sex, Sexting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-23
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:15:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21532807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FruHallbera/pseuds/FruHallbera
Summary: After Crait and the Supremacy Hux had enough of getting hurt by Ren and ran away. Now he's holed up in a cheap hotel room and going into heat with only his old datapad for company.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 28
Kudos: 343





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mysticmilks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysticmilks/gifts).



> Originally posted on Twitter, as an answer to MysticMilkshake's awesome fandom game prompt.

_> Wat r u wearing?_

The message is still there in the morning. It was there last night, and the day before that, dating back months. Hux stares at it balefully, mad at himself for lacking the balls to delete it. He drops the datapad to the thin, dirty mattress he's lying on and turns his back to it. He should get up. He needs credits, and food, and a plan. He has none of them. He has managed to scrape enough money to afford a few nights in the worst room of the cheapest hotel this starsforsaken spaceport has to offer. Hux can feel his heat creeping on, inevitable and unstoppable. Like Ren used to be. Still is, probably. Hux wouldn’t know.

He shivers and curls up, hugging himself and pressing his eyes tightly closed. There are suppressants available on the streets, he knows, but they are expensive and more than likely just corn starch and food colouring and absolutely not worth the risk. Hux forces his sluggish brain to work. He doesn’t need a whole contingency plan right now. Just the next few steps to make it through to evening.

He needs credits to pay in advance for a few more nights and to hoard food and water to sustain him through the worst of his heat. Then he’ll move on. He’ll hitch a ride to the next planet, or maybe get a job on one of the freighters smuggling goods on the fringes of the shipping lanes. He’s lingered here too long as it is. He’s robbed too many people and even left a couple of corpses behind and it’s only a matter of time before he’s caught. And then he can’t hide behind civilian clothes and cheap hair dye anymore. He’ll be recognized and sent back to the Order. There must be a bounty on his head and no matter how skilled a manipulator he is, he cannot compete against money.

He won’t go back. He can’t go back.

_> Wat r u wearing?_

The words are seared in Hux’s mind. It’s the last message Ren ever sent him before everything went wrong. Written hastily in a middle of a strategy briefing, Ren’s overlarge fingers struggling to hit the correct letters on his datapad. It’s still unanswered. Hux probably meant to, but a thousand little things got in the way. Like Starkiller and Crait, and Snoke’s corpse, and the horrible realization that Ren had never been serious about courting Hux. He had made a grave mistake in trusting Ren and having allowed himself to think that maybe there was a mate even for a man like Armitage Hux, despite all the evidence pointing in the opposite direction.

Hux hauls himself up from the bed with a groan and fumbles for a crumpled pack of cigarettes on the bedside table. He gets one out and lights it with shaking fingers. The first drag tastes awful but feels divine. Hux moves to the window and yanks the rag covering the filthy glass aside to take a look out. There is a large holoscreen across the street, playing one short commercial over and over again. It bathes Hux’s room in blue light for fifteen seconds, darkens it for two. Blue, blue, black. Hux hollows his cheeks and fills his lungs with smoke, lets it out slowly. Blue, blue, black. He’s a fool to have stayed here for so long but he’s stuck here for a few days more. He stubs the cigarette against the windowsill and straps his blade to his forearm, pulls his boots on and grabs his hooded coat on his way out. Time to lure yet another stupid alpha to an alley with the promise of a handjob and divest them of their excess money.

He steps outside on the busy street, pulls the hood over his head and jogs through the traffic to get to the other side. Above him, on the screen, Supreme Leader Kylo Ren of the First Order raises his head and extends his hand in a perpetual loop, his cape billowing from his wide shoulders in order to create a more dramatic and dynamic look. In the recruiting office beneath his benevolent gaze a few hopefuls are clutching brochures and filling out forms with world-weary officers.

It’s late when Hux returns to his room. He empties his pockets to the rickety table by the window. Knock-off ration bars and even a few pouches of First Order synthsust. A bottle of water, a new pack of cigarettes and even some credits left over to buy himself a cup of fresh caf from a street vendor. All courtesy of a horny alpha unable to resist the scent of Hux’s oncoming heat and now lying unconscious behind some trash bins a few blocks from Hux’s hotel. He shudders and wraps his coat tighter around him. It’s not long now. He can feel his mind muddying and a horrible need withering his innards, rising to the surface like a sea monster from the tales long since abandoned to his childhood. Stupid, stupid, stupid. All of this. His life and his body and the cycle his biology dictates but what he can’t afford to avoid.

What chafes him the most is his own idiocy. How he allowed Ren to infiltrate into his life and take it over bit by bit. His working day, and his rest cycles. His desire, his body – and his affection, in the end. His life’s work, his Order. It all got molded to Ren’s will and taken from Hux. He cradles the disposable cup in his hand and takes a sip. The caf is getting cold but he intends to make it last, not knowing when he’ll be able to get a new one. Outside Ren is once again looking through the window at Hux and reaching out. Instinctively Hux takes a step back and covers his caf with his hand. He won’t let Ren take this away from him, too.

He finishes his drink and covers the window. He’s starting to feel sweaty and hot and claws at his shirt collar to give himself room to breathe. He swallows against the rising nausea, knowing he should eat now because he’ll be needing the energy soon but completely unable to even finish the thought without bile rising up his throat. He strips down to his underwear and gets in bed. After a while he gets up to fetch his coat and tries to arrange it and the one blanket provided by the hotel into a makeshift nest. He howls in frustration and throws it all to the floor, sighs and rubs his eyes, picks them up and curls up under them both, knees hugged to his chest. He picks up the datapad and powers it up.

The message flashes across the screen immediately. Hux only took his datapad and his weapons with him when he fled. He thought he’d cash in on the contents of the datapad but found out soon enough that he had no desire to betray the Order. It’s no more than a memento now, anyway, enough time has passed for all the information in it to be obsolete. Hux shivers and whimpers when the first wave of unquenchable desire crashes over him. He refuses to touch himself. It will only make things worse. It’s not enough, never will be, not after Ren and his scent and his hands and his cock but it’s all he has so it’s best saved for when he’s too far gone to care. He runs his thumb across the message.

_> Wat r u wearing?_

Hells. The pad must be disconnected from the Order’s systems so why not play pretend.

< Why don’t you come and find out?

Hux puts the datapad underneath his pillow to keep it safe and closes his eyes. He could use the sleep. A few minutes pass before Hux screams and jumps from the bed, throwing his suddenly vibrating pillow away from him.

There is a little light flashing at the top left corner of his datapad.

A new message.

Hux wills his hands to stop shaking enough to pick the device up.

_> Hux?_

_> Is that u?_

_> Are u all rgt?_

_> right. Are you all right? Where are you?_

The messages keep coming, rapid-fire. Hux stares at them, panic rising in time with his heat.

_> Hux pls _

_> Please_

Hux’s heart thunders in his chest and he’s about to vomit for real. He looks around the room. He needs his weapons. He can carry most of the food with him. He wishes he hadn’t wasted the money on the caf but it’s too late now. There must be a ship leaving somewhere, anywhere. He manages two steps before his knees give out and he collapses on the floor, his cock rock-hard and his thighs covered with slick. He won’t make it out of the building in this state.

_> I’m sorry, Hux. So so sorry. Please believe me. Please let me know you’re alive._

_> Please. Hux_.

Hux holds his breath, types, and sends.

< I’m alive.

Hux takes a moment to get his wobbly legs to obey him and staggers to the window. He nearly rips the curtain clean off when his entire lower abdomen clenches and a new burst of slick trickles down his legs. He bites his teeth together to stop the moan from escaping. The holo-Ren outside is still stuck in his loop and Hux is having difficult time in wrapping his brain around the fact that the real Ren is out there and talking to him.

There is a long pause before the datapad vibrates again.

_> Are you really there? Like really really? How do I know it’s actually you?_

Hux sob-snorts and rolls his eyes.

< what would you like me to tell you? I suppose my former rank and number won’t convince you.

< And how do I know it’s you I’m talking to and not some unfortunate technician fixing your datapad?

_> U have a freckly butt_

_> U have a mole on ur left ankle I like to lick and u howl like a banshee when I eat u out_

_> what do u mean former rank?_

< I defected, Ren, if you don’t remember.

< Anyway, you have three moles on your left inner thigh and your cock curves to the right

< I know it was you who killed Snoke

Hux crawls back to hide beneath the covers. He wishes he could see the holo-Ren from his bed but there’s only the blue-blue-black of alternating light and dark.

_> U are still a general_

_> i haven’t changed that_

_> u hurt me but I haven’t changed that_

Hux doesn’t know what to say. He decides since none of this feels real it probably isn’t and there’s no reason to keep secrets.

< I’m in heat, Ren. I’m in heat and I’m all alone.

_> fuck_

_> will u tell me where u are?_

< No.

No way. Hux is not going back.

_> okay_

_> tell me what u need._

_> Seriously. I want to help._

< Talk me through this.

_> okay. What do u have? Toys? A proper nest?_

< Nothing. Just my hands. You.

_> Fuck. Okay. Okay. Let’s do this._

Hux suddenly finds himself missing Ren’s voice. The deep rumble he could feel vibrating through his body whenever Ren was pressed against him, hands roving all over Hux’s body and telling him everything he was going to do to Hux.

_> I remember how u smell. Like rainwater in space. Knife-sharp. Sweet._

< You always were a poet

Hux trails one finger over the skin of his neck, from his jawline down to his collarbone, imagining it to be the tip of Ren’s nose. He can almost feel Ren’s hot breath and soft lips, remembers how his teeth felt nibbling and tugging at his earlobe. He takes a hold of is earlobe and presses his fingernails in hard, in an imitation of Ren’s mouth.

_> I want to taste u. Maybe put my teeth to ur scent gland._

_> not to mate!_

_> I just wanna taste ur skin_

_> are u touchng urself?_

< No, not yet. I remember your scent too. Ozone and power and danger.

_> How can u smell danger??_

< I just can.

< Are you naked?

_> wait_

Hux strips as well, throwing his already soaked underpants to the floor and draping his shirt over the sole chair the room is furnished with.

_> done. Just wearing ur tags._

< My dogtags? Why would you do that?

_> U wore them to ur skin. Didn’t want anyone else touching them._

Hux blinks at the screen until his hips begin to grind against the bedding on their own volition. Another glob of slick drops down to the bedsheet. He thinks of Ren’s chest, all of a sudden, wide and muscular and glistening with sweat. His mouth goes dry.

_> Are u naked?_

< I am.

_> put ur finger to ur hole. Do not push it in. That’s my tongue. _

Hux does s instructed. He smears his slick around his hole, circles his finger around it and rubs over it. It’s a poor substitute but Hux moans anyway, rocking back to the touch.

_> gonna eat u out. gonna spread u open and work my tongue on u and make u come and come and scream my name_

_> fuck I wish I was there. I’d pin u down and make u howl and taste u on my tongue_

_> I’d keep u safe_

_> hux are u safe_

_> hux_

Hux stops, rises on his knees and grabs his datapad with both hands. Why did they never invest in equipping these with a proper comm?

< Kylo. Enough. Do you hear? That’s enough.

< I am safe. I am alone. The door is locked.

< No one’s coming in without my say-so. Calm down.

Hux looks at the peeling walls and drafty window and the door barely worthy of the name. The fact of the matter is that the only reason keeping him safe right now is the uncomfortable truth that anyone staying in a hotel of this caliber will by definition not have anything worth stealing.

< You KNOW me, Kylo. I am well able to defend myself, heat or no.

Ren doesn’t answer in several minutes.

_> Sorry._

_> I know. I know u don’t need my protection_

_> alpha instincts_

_> where were we?_

< You were nose-deep in my arse

_> there’s no better place to be _

< I’ll take your word for it.

< Are you hard?

_> so hard_

_> just for u_

< I’d like you to stroke yourself. Do you have lube? If you do, use a lot of it. That’s my mouth on your dick.

_> fuck, hx_

_> sry, using 1 hand to type_

_> figer urslef open_

Hux grins and props the datapad against his pillow. He spreads his legs and reaches to push his middle finger inside, to the second knuckle. He leaves it there for a moment, relishing in the feeling of being breached. He pushes the finger in deeper and his skin breaks out in goosepimples. It’s been a while. Hux hopes he can last at least five minutes.

_> Are u doing it? How many fingers?_

Hux eases another finger in before answering.

< Two

_> already? u must be wet_

< You have no idea. I’m soaked.

_> fuck that’s hot_

< You should hear me. I just put in the third finger

_> r u fucking urself_

_> pls tel me u r_

< I am. So good. Your fingers would be better though. Thicker. Longer.

< I miss your dick

_> what about my dick?_

Hux doesn’t need to concentrate to conjure up an image of Ren’s cock. The weight of it in his hand and on his tongue. The salty, sharp taste of Ren’s precome, the fine hairs on his testicles. He remembers every vein and fold and the swell of Ren’s knot.

< It’s a nice enough dick. Passable

< I’d like it inside me

Slick dribbles down Hux’s hand as he pushes his fingers deeper in and curls them. He falls down on his free hand, opening his mouth to scream but all that’s coming out is a broken whimper. He fucks himself on his hand but it’s not enough. Not thick enough, not long enough, not hard enough.

< i want you cock ren

< want it in me

< fill me up

< ren fuck i want it bad

Hux sobs and moans and tries so hard to make his hand be what he needs.

_> u r so tight around me_

_> so wet_

_> fuck hux I want u to ride me_

_> I’d fuck up into u_

_> knot u_

_> fuck fuck wait_

Hux uses the pause to take his other hand to his cock, fingers curling tightly around the shaft and setting a steady pace, twisting his wrist on every upstroke.

_> Sorry. I came_

_> Been a while_

_> it got everywhere had some in my eye and had to wash it_

_> still stings _

_> u still there?_

Hux wipes his hand on his chest but still leaves sticky fingerprints on the screen.

< still here

< want to come

_> come on my cock, babe_

_> feel it in u_

_> my knot swelling up when I plow u to the mattress_

_> pound u hard_

_> come for me, babe_

Hux’s hand flies on his cock and he nearly his entire hand in his hole. He cranes his head to see out of the window just as holo-Ren is raising his eyes to meet his. His ears ring and his vision whitens out –

Morning light filtering through the dirty glass wakes Hux up. He groans and grimaces at the wet spot right under his belly. The datapad has dropped to the floor and he retrieves it as soon as he sees it, turning it over to check for damages.

_> I’ll fill u up with my come, make ur belly grow with my pups_

_> did u come, babe?_

_> Hux?_

_> u must be asleep. U always do that after u come. _

_> I should be there watching over you. Keep u safe and warm. Cover u with my body. _

_> I know I fucked up. We both did. Badly. We had it good and we let it go._

_> it’s hard without u but I’m making it work. The Order. Me. _

_> U left and my heart went bust_

_> I know we never talked about mating but I’d have. With u. No one else but u. Ever._

_> I know u say u don’t need my protection but hear me out:_

_> I’ll send u coordinates. There will be a shuttle waiting._

_> no pilot, no troopers, not me_

_> just shuttle and supplies. Food. Money. That whiskey of urs. Fuel. Guns._

_> toys and nest things and suppressants_

_> and for my peace of mind: a tracker. Turned off. _

_> but if u ever turn it on – I’ll come. Whenever, wherever. I’ll be there._

_> u have friends in high places. Never forget that._

_> anything u need let me know. Anything at all._

_> let me take care of u in this way_

_> babe_

_> Hux_

_> I love you_

_> sweet dreams babe_


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So.. this was meant to be a one-shot but developed a life of its own and didn't leave me alone.
> 
> Please note the updated warnings and tags, and check the additional content warning at the end of the chapter.

Hux stretches on his bed, dislodging the large pillow he has tucked under one arm and the two blankets he’s burrowed under. His cycle is once again well under control thanks to the steady supply of suppressants provided by the First Order, or rather, by its Leader. Still, Hux relishes his nest-like sleeping quarters, made cozy and warm by a plethora of blankets and pillows and soft lighting and also extremely secure by his own brand of engineering and a few select blades and firearms hidden in the bedding and fixtures.

He doesn’t remember ever feeling this relaxed in his life. The first time he woke up after sleeping for twelve hours straight had him panicking a bit but after a week or so he got used to the feeling of being rested and properly alert without the help of stims. He's never had a nest like this, and he continues to be both slightly amazed and absolutely miffed at how his body responds to the soft cocoon and familiar scents around him. The First Order only provides nesting material to bonded mates and pregnant omegas and while Hux is certain he could have either pulled rank or gone outside the official channels he’s never gotten around of obtaining enough material to construct a proper nest. Not even after he and Ren got involved.

Hux yawns and checks the chrono. He still has some time before he’s due to exit hyperspace to make a quick stop to refuel and stock up on food and water. He fishes around for one particular blanket, finds the familiar fabric and wraps it around himself, drifting off to sleep until the alarm wakes him up.

The shuttle is everything Ren promised. It’s viciously fast but inconspicuous enough not to attract undue attention, armed to the teeth but comfortable where it counts. Its design is not familiar to Hux, definitely not one of the Order’s fleet although manufactured by Sienar-Jaemus. It came stocked up with all essentials, and one large box containing amongst other items a handwritten letter stating that Ren was aware he probably shouldn’t presume and Hux was free to do as he pleased with the contents. An investigation of said contents revealed a modest selection of dildos and vibrators Hux recognized as the ones he had kept under his bed aboard the _Finalizer_ , and a tightly wrapped parcel containing a blanket Ren had obviously slept under. His scent filled the air as soon as Hux tore through the packaging. He drew in a huge lungful, then promptly stuffed the blanket back into the box and closed the lid before firing up the engines and setting coordinates to the first system he could think of.

< Thank you, Ren. I assume you have an explanation ready to attach to your expenses account.

Hux had just breached atmo when his datapad chimed.

_> I’ll explain the finer details with my lightsaber. Is everything to ur satisfaction?_

< I’ll let you know once I’ve conducted a full inspection.

The blanket sneaked its way into Hux’s bed after a month of occasional use wrapped around Hux’s shoulders or being napped under. Ren’s scent might have evaporated already but Hux draws some amount of comfort from it anyway. He has been on the run for little over a year now. The first few months were spent in frantic survival mode but now he has had time to rest and think and the undeniable fact is that despite the lack of bonding bites or even any serious discussion regarding the status of their relationship he is as good as bonded to Ren. He guesses Ren feels the same, judging by their recent conversations and the steady supply of anything and everything a lone man traveling the galaxy might need.

The alarm wakes him up just as much as the smell of fresh caf wafting from the small galley. He crawls from the bed and pads to the source of the enticing scent, rubbing the back of his head. He decided to get rid of his dye-damaged hair on his last visit to a spaceport and a rusty and creaky droid gave him an undercut of sorts in exchange for some maintenance. The short buzz feels strange and Hux can’t stop touching it. The longer hair on top has gone completely feral by the lack of pomade and Hux has given up on trying to tame it at all. It’s curling up slightly and keeps falling over his eyes, so he usually just ties it into a messy topknot he remembers Ren doing with his hair from time to time.

“Thank you, En-Four,” he says to the partly assembled astromech droid who has successfully completed the task set for it and brewed him a nice cup of caf. The droid doesn’t answer. Hux has been building it up from scratch to while away the hours in transit and has yet to obtain the vital parts to get the droid mobile and to give it a voice. It never hurts to be polite, though. In his junior officer days one of his peers remarked that his coddling of droids must be some perversion of his omega nature. Hux had thanked them for their opinion by giving them a broken nose and the issue had never been raised again. Maybe they were right. Or maybe Hux just finds droids more trustworthy than any living being.

Pondering idly on the fundamentals of his endotype and sipping his caf he continues to the cockpit. The shuttle’s autopilot is preparing the plunge into realspace and sounds an alarm to warn the passengers of the impending deceleration. Hux plops down on the pilot’s seat and braces for the jolt. Stars appear suddenly, and among them a blue-green planet with ice-capped poles and large oceans. Hux sets the shuttle on orbit and goes to get dressed and grab a bite to eat. On a whim he takes his datapad and types while tearing a ration bar wrapper open with his teeth.

< How fares the mighty Supreme Leader on this fine morning?

They have been communicating intermittently ever since Hux’s heat. They usually talk about everyday stuff, carefully skirting around the more difficult issues. Sometimes they bring each other off while messaging, and once or twice they’ve veered dangerously close to the whys and wherefores of Hux leaving Ren and his post. Hux doesn’t ask about the Order. Ren doesn’t ask about the tracker. Hux has found that he can live with Ren now that his overpowering presence is reduced to words on screen. In the early days of their communicating Hux would from time to time get overwhelmed and Ren’s messages went unanswered for days on end. Ren has proved to be remarkably patient with him, only after a week’s silence sending a simple _still alive?_ which Hux never fails to confirm.

He goes through his undershirts and wrinkles his nose at the state of them. He’s still learning to enjoy his new freedom – it has been rough, at times, after a lifetime spent in the service of a great cause and as a subject to military discipline - but there are times when he misses his old life. Like the fact that after ascending past a certain rank he never had to do his own laundry. He manages to find one that’s still clean and pulls it on. He’s chewing on the ration bar and despairing over his underwear drawer when the answer arrives.

_> same old same old_

_> being fitted for a dress uniform_

_> have a gala to go to _

Hux huffs at the datapad, steps out of his sleeping boxers and tosses them in a hamper.

< You in a uniform? That almost makes me regret leaving.

Foundations sorted, Hux moves on to the outer layers. A pair of brown trousers, a white belt and a green shirt. A blaster snug in its holster strapped to his thigh, his most favourite blade hidden in his sleeve. Brass knuckles into a pocket. Sturdy combat boots and a beige jacket to complete his outfit. The tracker, like a good luck charm suspended from a narrow chain and worn around his neck under his shirt. He’s fairly confident he won’t be recognized, especially since he hasn’t shaved in a couple of days and keeps startling himself every time he looks into a mirror and sees his transformed face.

_> Huh. Dunno how u wore this every day_

_> itchy_

_> makes my ass look awesome tho_

Hux returns to the cockpit and looks at the planet below. Chibrutis governs the system it’s a part of and its location makes it a busy trading port. Hux is spoiled with choice where to land. Some of the more backwater cities are tempting but he opts for the capital city, if only for the better chances of getting more parts for his droid project.

< You’d better be wearing a greatcoat in public unless you want your subjects to riot

< Anyway, got to go. Places to go, people to see. Talk to you later. 

He sends his request to the flight control and waits for them to sort him out. Soo enough his shuttle touches down in the outer fringes of the enormous city and Hux disembarks to give his false information to the customs officer.

“You got here just in time,” she says while inspecting his ID.

“What do you mean?”

“Haven’t you seen the news? Some First Order bigwig is coming for a visit. They say it’s the Supreme Leader himself. It’s gonna be a nightmare with the security.”

Hux stares at her, speechless. His fingers have gone numb and his guts are twisting into knots. “How – when will he arrive, do you know?”

“Sometime in the afternoon, I think.”

Hux’s first instinct is to turn on his heel and fly as far as he can as fast as he can. Which won’t be long because he’s low on fuel and short on food and water. Right. He’ll get what he needs as fast as he can and forgets about the extra shopping. En-four will have to make do with navigating Hux’s caf machine for a while longer. He can do this. He forces himself not to run to organize the refueling of his shuttle and asks where the nearest shops are. After an hour he’s still so distracted he’s gotten himself well and truly lost and finds himself standing in a street corner by a seedy alley trying not to yell in frustration. He swears he can _feel_ Ren approaching, a looming presence growing by each minute in the back of his mind that passes and Hux should already be on his way, getting his shuttle back into the safety of hyperspace.

A dark figure suddenly appears in his peripheral vision and he whirls around, heart racing, ready to flick out his knife. It’s a tall, broad blonde man, dressed in a First Order officer’s greatcoat over black fatigues. Hux stares at the odd combination before noticing the old design and the lack of insignia – the man has obviously gotten his outfit from one of the military surplus stores the Order sometimes sells the outdated uniforms and gear otherwise deemed unfit for recycling.

“Looking for company?” the man asks, leering and trying to loom over Hux. An alpha, by the smell of it, cocksure and arrogant. “A pretty little omega like you shouldn’t be allowed outside alone.”

Hux levels him an incredulous look. Not even _Ren_ has ever dared to call him pretty. Hux draws himself to his full height and summons the General from where he’s buried. His mouth twist into an indignant sneer as he stares the alpha down signaling ‘ _you will address me as Sir and stand at attention when you are talking to me, you horrible little man’_ with every fiber of his being. The alpha actually stumbles and takes an involuntary step back. He growls and bares his teeth and shakes himself, then leans close enough for Hux to smell his stale breath.

“Come on, I’ll show you good time.”

“No,” Hux says flatly and turns to walk away. A hand on his arm stops him. The alpha yanks him back and shoves him to the alley.

“You do as I say, _omega_ , and you will thank me for it.”

Hux lets the man pull him to the shadows and grope his hips. He bats his eyelashes at him and bites his bottom lip, trailing one hand up to his left shoulder and touches his right elbow lightly with the other. He leans in and as the alpha puffs up and smirks at him, Hux tightens his grip, hooks his leg behind the alpha’s knee and relishes in the way his skull cracks on the pavement. He kicks the alpha’s side for good measure. With practiced hands he goes through his pockets, unearthing an Order-issue blaster, a First Order ID and a red wig.

He drops the wig on the alpha’s chest and inspects the blaster. It’s a standard officer’s sidearm, unremarkable in every way except how it responds to Hux’s finger on its trigger. Hux feels his stomach drop and he nearly drops the gun. There is only one blaster in the galaxy programmed to activate only on his fingerprint and it’s resting against his thigh in its holster. Hux pulls it out and checks the weapons side by side. They are more or less the same, the alpha’s being an older model, and they both promptly respond to his touch. Confused, Hux checks the man’s ID. His own sullen face glares back at him from the obviously fake ID.

None of this makes sense. Is the alpha trying to get to Ren? There’s no way any of this would fool Ren, even without his Force powers.

Hux looks at the wig, the greatcoat and the blaster. His thoughts stumble over one another in their hurry to make sense of the situation. Hux stands up, exhaling hard when the pieces fall in their places. He looks around, considers for a second, puts the alpha’s blaster against his forehead and pulls the trigger. He walks away quickly, not knowing where the street leads to but certain he must keep moving.

Ren might not be fooled by this performance, but he doesn’t have to be. All that’s needed is a few seconds of grainy security feed or someone desperate for their fifteen minutes of fame to swear they’ve seen the famous General Hux with his red hair and iconic greatcoat, so familiar from all the propaganda posters and famously defected from the Order’s ranks, in the city at the time of the Supreme Leader’s unfortunate demise. Backed up with the irrefutable proof of Hux’s blaster and his ID no doubt recovered from the body of the assumed General who unfortunately has died during his arrest and the First Order’s brand-new new leadership will never have to face uncomfortable questions.

Hux swears under his breath and starts to run.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter Hux gets assaulted by an alpha. Hux promptly renders him unconscious and after finding out about his part in an assassination plot against Ren kills him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After you've read the story, check out the epilogue in the form of this awesome [piece of art](https://pbs.twimg.com/media/EMA9CqJWwAAAfs_?format=jpg&name=900x900) made by the truly talented blue_slushies10 who you can meet and greet (and shower with kudos) on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/blue_slushies10)

Hux runs. He has no idea where he’s going, but lets his legs carry him wherever they want. He _knows_ he’s running to Ren, although he cannot tell how he knows. He turns a corner, runs down the street dodging speeders and people, some turning to look after him and then scanning the crowd to see if anyone’s chasing him.

He rounds one more corner and enters a large square where two AALs and an Upsilon have landed. A large crowd has gathered to watch the arrival of the legendary Supreme Leader of the First Order. Stormtroopers spill out of their transports and split the crowd in two, forming an alley from the shuttle to a tall building rising on one side of the square. Banners flapping in the wind hang from the buildings and flagpoles on all sides, in alternating colours of red and black for the Order and pale green and gold for Chibrutis.

Hux forces his way through the throng, not hesitating to use his sharp elbows whenever necessary. The Upsilon’s ramp lowers and Ren’s personal guard marches down, followed by a few high-ranking officers and finally the Leader himself emerges, flanked by more of his guards, just as tall and imposing as Hux remembers. Ren strides down the ramp his head held high, towering over his subordinates. He’s dressed in his usual black although his cape seems to be lined with red. He has combed and braided his hair and he’s looking more mature now, weighed by the responsibilities of his high position. His lightsaber is still clipped to his belt, though, and the air around him crackles with unleashed power.

Hux stands rooted to the ground, being jostled by people. His heart is beating it’s way out of his chest and his fingers have suddenly gone numb. Ren walks a few steps before coming to an abrupt halt and whipping round to look in Hux’s direction, scanning the crowd.

 _‘MOVE!’_ Hux thinks, as loudly as he can. ‘ _You’re in danger, you clot, keep moving!’_

Ren shudders and walks on, looking over his shoulder until he disappears into the building. Before he’s gone Hux forces himself free from the spell he’s under and begins to push past the crowd again. A name of a hotel flutters through his mind and he stops for a second, disoriented from the foreign thought. He grabs the closest person by their jacket and screams at them: “The _Golden Star_? Where is it?”

He receives vague directions after repeating the question a few times and once more starts off running, shoving people out of his way. He clears the square and sets off down a narrow alley, flanked by tall buildings on each side. He’s already getting out of breath and his side is hurting but he doesn’t dare to stop. At a crossroads he has to because he’s lost his way yet again and he barks orders at people until someone points him in the right direction. He runs along a busy shopping street, weaving past shoppers of numerous species, droids and small speeders until he can finally see the pale blue, tastefully ostentatious tower that bears the name _Golden Star_ over its front door. Hux grinds to a halt. Barging in frothing at the mouth and yelling for the Supreme Leader will only get him tossed out or arrested, besides he really doesn’t even know if Ren is in there or still attending some welcoming ceremony.

He spots a pair of stormtroopers flanking the door and decides to go for the gamble. It probably won’t work. He’ll get himself killed.

He smooths his hair and collects himself, rolls his shoulders back and lets his hands clasp each other behind his back like they have done a thousand times before. He strides towards the door head held high and heart thundering, painfully aware of his flushed face and sweaty skin, his civilian clothes and his undercut and his beard.

“Sergeant!” he barks as he approaches the soldiers. “Take me to Leader Ren.”

The troopers stand frozen in place for a few seconds and Hux’s mouth goes dry as he attempts to tamp down his growing certainty this is going to backfire spectacularly. Then they both salute him so suddenly and fiercely the other trooper smacks their gauntlet against their helmet with a loud crack.

“General Hux, sir!” the sergeant all but yells, surprise and excitement obvious in her voice even through the helmet’s distortion. “So glad to see you back, if I may say so, sir!”

“Leader Ren, sergeant!” Hux reminds her. “Now!” and because old habits are hard to break, and he does value his- _Ren’s_ troopers, he adds: “Glad to be back, sergeant.”

She salutes him again and makes a smart about turn and walks purposefully indoors, Hux following right behind her. “Comm for backup. The Supreme Leader is in direct danger.”

If the sergeant is surprised, she does not let it show. They stride across the lobby and towards the lifts at the far end and more troopers appear and a few accidentally run into each other when they see Hux. The sergeant is walking so close to Hux it almost borders on insubordination and in another world Hux would have dressed her down and she’d have been lucky to make it to reconditioning but right now he can’t bring himself to care – and in any case she’s deserved a reward for not shooting Hux on sight.

“Secure the perimeter. No one in or out. The rest with me.” Hux is only dimly aware of the orders spilling from his mouth. In the background the hotel’s staff and customers are starting to notice something’s happening and an irate voice demanding to know what is going on rises above the few shrieks and thumps when the troopers rush to fulfill the orders they’ve been given.

The lift ride to the top floor takes forever. Hux wants to pace and yell and the effort of not doing either has him on the edge. They are only a few floors away when _something_ lances through Hux’s brain. A warning, a message, a certain knowledge that his alpha is close, and that his alpha is hurt. It’s an instinct, long forgotten and something Hux could have sworn he was devoid of, honed away by his upbringing and career.

Hux becomes aware he’s growling only when the troopers start edging away from him. He forces himself to convert the growl into more orders. The troopers ready themselves for the fight, the sergeant stepping between Hux and the doors, ready to take the point. Hux himself checks his blasters, tests the mechanism of the blade strapped to his forearm. He tries to think. There will be multiple enemies, that much is certain. There is no way a single assassin will have any chance in even getting close to Ren. They must wear him down to defeat him.

Suddenly the lift shudders to a halt, lights flickering, before continuing its journey with a screech of metal grinding on metal. Hux feels a tiny jolt of relief surging through him. Ren’s brand of Force use is easily recognizable, so he must still be in fighting form. Finally, the lift stops properly and as the doors open Hux’s world narrows into single focus. He has both of his blasters in his hands and steps out into the corridor just behind the sergeant and another trooper.

The lifts are at the end of the hallway and Ren is at the other end, his lightsaber slicing through air and enemies who are swarming him. His personal guard is nowhere to be seen. Hux screams his anger and defiance and rises his blasters in synch with the troopers, starting to thin out the would-be assassins. They are dressed in Rebel Alliance gear from the days of the old Empire, the kind that’s sold in costume shops for a few credits, and Hux takes this as a confirmation that the plot is indeed an inside job. Some of them turn and begin to return fire but even though they outnumber Hux’s troopers the odds are now against them. The troopers push forwards, relentless, and Hux goes with them, shooting with both blasters and with a deadly accuracy. 

All thoughts about the origins of the coup are swiped away. He’s carving a path to his alpha, his _mate_ , and no amount of dirty wannabe murderers will stand in his way.

Ren rises his head and sees Hux. He falters, for just one second, and only barely blocks the bolt aimed at his side with his saber. The enemy who took the shot crumples to the floor, crushed by an invisible force. Ren opens his closed fist and skewers another enemy with his lightsaber. He begins to move forwards, to Hux, cutting through the enemy without mercy. The fight is short but fierce, the troopers easily disposing of the remaining enemies. In the end Hux finds himself standing at the one end of the long corridor, panting hard and still brandishing his blasters. Ren is frozen still at the other end, his saber still ignited. The power he wields is almost visible around him, like a heat haze around a speeder engine. Flames dance in his eyes as he stares at Hux, his once braided hair a wild mop around his head and his chest rising and falling rapidly.

Ren takes the first step towards Hux just as Hux starts towards him, accelerating into a run after three walking steps. Ren’s pace is steady but full of intent. He’s bent slightly forwards into his battle stance and the fingers of his free hand twitch at his side.

Hux bares his teeth and his growl grows in pitch and volume as his boots slam against the floor faster and faster. They are only a few paces apart when Ren switches his lightsaber off and clips it to his belt. Hux takes one more running step and launches himself on Ren who catches him just as much with the Force as he does with his hands. Hux’s blasters clatter to the floor when he wraps his arms around Ren’s shoulders and hooks his ankles behind Ren’s back. Their mouths crash together, all lips and teeth and tongue. Hux is still growling and so is Ren, until he draws back and breaks the kiss.

“Sergeant!” he says, never looking away from Hux. “Secure this floor. Find out where my guard is. Arrest anyone who appears to be alive or tries to enter.”

“Yes sir!” she answers and earns herself a promotion and Hux’s personal interest in her career with: “Um, Supreme Leader, General Hux. If you would wait just one moment, I will have your suite checked and cleared.”

They stumble through the doorway when the all clear’s been declared into Ren’s suite and Hux claims Ren’s mouth as soon as the door closes behind them. Ren presses Hux against the nearest wall and pulls and squeezes and strokes Hux wherever he can, making hungry little sounds in the back of his throat. Hux twines his fingers in Ren’s hair and yanks his head back. Ren snarls and attempts to connect their mouths again, pushing forwards with his entire body, boots skidding on the stone floor. Hux tilts his head to the side and presents his throat.

“Bite,” he gasps. “Bite. Bite. Bite.”

Ren’s teeth rake over Hux’s cheek and ear and neck until he finally homes in on the correct spot and bites down with a roar. He stills, teeth clamped over Hux’s scent gland, arms tightening around him. Hux screams when his skin breaks and comes hard, his hole clenching against nothing, arms and legs twitching and his mind exploding into a supernova. He comes to when Ren’s knees buckle and they both sink slowly to the floor. Ren keeps his arms in a tight circle around Hux and his face buried in the crook of Hux’s neck. His shoulders are shaking and Hux can hear him gasping for breath.

He’s no longer operating on base instinct and the adrenaline leaving his body makes him shiver with cold. He clings to Ren for warmth for a while but soon enough the last vestiges of the protective instincts evaporate. He wiggles gently and tries to pry Ren’s arms loose with little success.

“Ren.”

Ren only tightens his grip. Something like broken whimper escapes him.

“Ren.” Hux tries again to get some space to breathe. “Ren, you’re hurting me.”

The effect is immediate. Ren scrambles back so quickly Hux falls from his lap onto the floor and hisses in pain when his tailbone hits the hard surface. “Sorry. Fuck, Hux, I’m so sorry,” Ren mumbles, and the sound of his voice reduced to an uncertain, quiet timbre is so alien Hux gets up on his knees and leans forwards until he can card his fingers through Ren’s hair. The bond mark on his neck itches and burns a little but he ignores it for now.

“It’s all right.” Hux has never been one to offer comfort and his voice sounds stilted even to his own ears.

“I never seem to get it right. I just keep fucking everything up.” Ren keeps his eyes on the floor but touches the bruised skin over Hux’s scent gland gently. Hux takes his hand, pulls the glove away finger by finger and studies the large, calloused fingers closely, turns the hand over and runs his finger over the prominent knuckles. There are a couple of new scars and Hux can’t resist the urge to lick them despite knowing for a fact that he’s too late to heal them. He manages to keep his tongue behind his teeth and kisses the hand instead, breathing in the mixed scent of Ren’s skin and the leather of his gloves.

“I don’t know, Ren. You’ve managed the Order quite well.”

“That’s not what I – yeah. Sure. I’ve done all right.” He can’t keep the hint of pride from his voice and something prickles in the corner of Hux’s eye. He squeezes Ren’s fingers before letting go of his hand.

“Hux,” Ren whispers, making an aborted gesture at him. “Hux, I- Do you regret this?” he asks suddenly, touching the bond mark.

Hux bites his lip and shakes his head. “No. I do not regret this.” He scoots closer, cards his fingers through Ren’s hair and presses their foreheads together. “When I learned I had landed on the same planet where you were due to arrive, I thought of running but then I almost lost you – “ The thought of Ren not being there makes him choke and he has to look away.

“How _did_ you find out?”

“It’s a long story. I’ll tell you some other time.”

“You saved my life. I drove you away but came back and you saved my life.”

Ren’s close to tears. His eyes are misting over and his lower lip wobbles a bit. Hux can’t take it. He’s never been one to handle emotions. So, he does what he can as a diversion and soon enough he has Ren sprawling on his bed, naked, and himself on top of the Supreme Leader, kissing him slowly but thoroughly. He nibbles Ren’s lower lip, far better suited for this than weeping, sucks on his tongue and swallows Ren’s gasps and quiet moans. He’s naked too, Ren only promising to reduce clothing if Hux did it first. Ren’s large hands slide from his waist to knead his buttocks, one of them occasionally reaching between them to circle a pad of a finger over his hole. Ren grows bolder by the minute, and soon enough it’s Hux who’s making little hungry sounds when one of Ren’s thick fingers slides in. Hux is already wet from his orgasm and growing wetter still, as if he was going into a heat. There are no other symptoms so Hux chalks it up to the recent bonding.

The finger withdraws with a squelch but soon presses in again, this time accompanied with another. Hux can feel Ren’s hard cock poking his ass and he can tell how achingly aroused Ren is, his scent giving away his true state. Hux is in no hurry, however. He keeps kissing Ren at his own leisurely pace, grinding against his hips in time with Ren’s fingers pumping in and out of his hole. Ren adds a third digit and swallows Hux’s answering moan. He begins to curl his fingers and move his hand with more intent. His touch and his scent soon have Hux coming again, trembling under Ren’s large palm spread over the small of his back and his other hand being pushed hard in his hole. His orgasm is not as intense and mind-shattering as the previous one, but it’s no less sweet. Hux buries his face in the crook of Ren’s neck, breathing in the musk of his arousal. It’s so strong and overwhelming if Hux didn’t know better he’d say that Ren is in a rut. Ren keeps his fingers buried in Hux for a little while before pulling them away slowly. Hux keens at the loss of them. He rises up to straddle Ren, bracing his hands on the expanse of his chest. Ren runs his palms over Hux’s thighs, to his waist and up his sides to brush his thumbs over his nipples.

“You need to make an appearance,” Hux tells him. “To let everyone know you are still alive.”

“I will. In time.” Ren returns his hands to cover Hux’s buttocks and looks up at him. “Hux. I need – will you come back with me?”

“I cannot be your general anymore.”

“No. You’re right. But – my Grand Marshal. My mate. I’ve conquered the Galaxy for you. Rule it with me.”

Hux leans back to mull this over. He covers his bond mark with his hand, presses down to make the fresh wound sting. “The shuttle stays,” he says at long last. “And I will be the only one to have access to it.”

“Yes.”

“That stormtrooper sergeant - she gets a promotion.”

“She can be the head of your personal guard if you want to.”

“You will let me lead the investigation of this attempt on your life.”

“I will. But you will let me deal out the justice.”

Hux huffs in response, then rises on his knees and grasps for Ren’s cock behind him. He lines himself up and begins to descend, slowly, to extend the pleasure of the first glorious thrust. Ren is arching off the beg, eyes screwed shut and groaning. He has let go of Hux’s thighs and he’s grasping the sheet in his fists.

“Look at me, Kylo.”

“No.”

“Look at me.”

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“If I do, I’ll knot you on the spot and I’ve waited this for so long. And if I open my eyes I will wake up and this has all been a dream and you are half a Galaxy away.”

Hux chuckles and seats himself fully on Ren’s cock, clenching around it. It’s just as good as he remembers, filling him up just right, the promise of Ren’s knot already throbbing at the base of it. He cups Ren’s face, turning it gently.

“Just open your eyes, Kylo. I’m right here.”


End file.
